


Angels don't do RPG's

by FelicanFromFairwater



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Castiel, Brotherly Dean, Fluff, M/M, Sick Sam, angst (a little im sorry), cosplaying, first time gaming, shopping together, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:04:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4710293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelicanFromFairwater/pseuds/FelicanFromFairwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT #76 The first time they play a video game together. (Maybe Charlie hooks 'em up when she visits the Bunker and there isn't even an Atari. Maybe Dean wants to play CoD or some other cool game where he can be a sniper or blow shit up but Cas is holding up Lego Harry Potter [or some other non shoot-'em-up title] and it's not like Dean can argue against Harry Potter [and legos] being kinda awesome.)</p><p>Dean and Cas play video games, as per Charlie persuasion. Mostly fluff. some Hell feels, i had to I'm sorry. implied smut, I didn't have time to do it right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise to my ever patient normal readers, this is what was taking up all my time from my other works. I'm so sorry.
> 
> All in all, your average Canon Destiel fic
> 
> I'm so sorry if you are offended by any of my choices in games or cosplays, or takes on situations. 
> 
> feel free to comment
> 
> couch artwork by Emma Roose, the other is my vision of what nord cas would look like, with or without the war paint, depending on what season you're on. the latter photo is by the lovely 0Snow-White0 on deviantart.com

"Dudes, seriously?" Charlie exclaimed as she took a seat on one of the empty chairs in the bunker's library, "All this space and free magic electricity and you don't have a single gaming console? I'm so offended!" 

Castiel leaned over to Dean, "What is a gaming console?" He whispered.

"Only the greatest invention since dry shampoo!" Charlie said, "wow I knew you guys were noobs but I didn't think you were this bad."

Dean, Cas and Sam all stared at her in confusion.  
    "Noobs?" They all asked in unison.  
    "Newbies, cherries, cannon fodder, you know, noobs!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "Dean I know you know what I'm talking about. You're a closet nerd."  
    "I'm a what now?" Dean said, raising an eyebrow.  
"A nerd that refuses to embrace his true feelings for MMOs and tabletops. I saw you in Moondoor. I know a true nerd when I see one."  
Dean pursed his lips, and Sam smirked. "Does 'let's Star Trek IV this bitch' sound familiar?" The younger Winchester chuckled.  
    "Shut up I'm not a nerd."  
    "Dean, being a nerd doesn't make you any less of a man." Charlie reassured as he pulled her tablet from her bag, "in fact, a lot of guys play video games. Call of Duty, Skyrim, Halo, they're all pretty manly."  
She pulled up GameStop.com on her tablet and proceeded to show the boys some of her favorite games.   
Dean's eyes lit up when he saw Call of Duty Black Ops II. "Are those zombies?" He asked, looking over Charlie's shoulder.   
    "Yup. There's hellhounds, too. The next game in the series sucked though."  
    "Why?"  
    "Don't even get me started."  
Sam cleared his throat, getting their attention. "Well I'm just gonna leave you guys to it. I'm not one for the whole "fantasy life" thing. I've got enough of that here."  
    "Cmon, Sammy," Dean said, "you have to admit this is pretty awesome.”   
    "I'm gonna go make lunch. You guys want anything?"  
Castiel, who had been quiet this whole time, piped up. "Can I help?" He asked, not sure how to approach this whole "gaming" situation.   
    "Sure, Cas."  
The angel followed him to the kitchen, while Dean and Charlie continued to browse for games.  
    "What's that one?" Dean asked, pointing at the screen.  
"Ooh that's a good one. BioShock is one of my favorites!"  
They started a list of games that interested Dean, deciding that and Xbox 360 was the better console choice, and then the pair made their way to the kitchen, where Sam was stuffing his face with whatever greens he was into these days. Cas was making a face at his pb and j.  
Dean wasn't sure if he was going to eat it or smite it.  
    "You want anything, Char?" Dean called as he made a beeline for the fridge.  
    "I'm good. I ate on the way. Speaking of, I should get going."  
    "What? Why?" Dean asked, sad to see her leaving so soon.  
    "Dudes. Comic con."  
Dean nodded in agreement and tossed her a bottle of water. "Can I at least make you a sandwich for the road?"  
\----

“Sammy, you comin’?” Dean called from the front entrance of the bunker. He and Cas were going on a supply run, and stopping at the mall to get the other, not food things, on their list.

The only response was the sound of Sam vomiting violently in the bathroom. All that roughage didn’t agree with him.

“I guess not,” Dean shrugged to Cas, writing pepto bismol and chicken soup on the list. “You ready, Cas?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“Alright let’s go nerd up.”

“What?”

“Nevermind. Let’s go.”

\---

Dean walked into Best Buy, feeling out of his element. All this techie stuff was Sam’s world, not his. He followed the signs until he found the consoles aisle, grabbing an  xbox 360, an extra controller, and a headset, just for the hell of it. Maybe he and Charlie could link up and play together sometime. That would be cool.

“Cas?” Dean called, wandering the store awkwardly with the pile of boxes stacked in his arms. “Where are you?”

“I’m over here,” the angel called from the next aisle over, browsing the selection of games on the shelves. “Don’t you need these… disks.. to play?” Castiel said as he squinted at the display.

“Yeah, I guess we do. Charlie said that these were good games,” Dean said, setting the boxes down and fishing his list out of his back pocket. “Uuh, Bioshock, Call of Duty Black Ops II, Skyrim, and Rockband. See any of those, Cas?”

The angel had the first three in his hands already, and was searching for the fourth.

“Here it is,” Dean said, finding the kit. “ooh it comes with drums, guitar, and a mic? Awesome.”

Castiel was busy reading the back of each game case, frowning lightly.

“What’s wrong, Cas?”

“Can I pick out a game?” the angel asked politely.

“I don’t see why not. We should get a game for Sammy, too.”

Castiel browsed the shelves, his eyes catching on a brightly colored case with an animated tiger on the front. he held it up to Dean. “What about this one?”

Dean laughed and took it from him, reading the back. “Kinectimals? Seriously, Cas?”

“It looks enjoyable.”

“No, cas. Let’s find something a little less… Creepy.” He picked up another case, this one with a couple of animated bunnies on it. It was ‘cute’ or whatever Cas was into, but as Dean read the back he became more and more interested. There was cartoon violence and plunger throwing, how could he not be curious? “How about this one?” He asked Cas, holding it out to the angel. “It’s called Raving Rabbids. It looks pretty cool.”

Castiel read the back and nodded in approval. “I would very much enjoy this game.”

“Alright. Now, let’s get something geeky for Sammy and get out of here. this place makes me want to enlist in Starfleet or something.”

\-----

“Dean, what is ‘r pig?’” Castiel asked as the pair made their way back home.

“R pig?”

“that is what the box says.” Castiel said, pointing at the Bioshock case, “See right here ‘single-player r pig’.”

Dean shook his head and smiled. “No, Cas. It’s pronounced R-P-G.” Dean said, spelling out the acronym. “It stands for role playing game.”

“That makes sense.” Castiel ruffled through the other games, pulling out the one they got for Sam. “What is ‘geo-party?’” He asked, squinting at the box in suspicion.

“No, Cas. Jeopardy. It’s a game show on tv where you answer trivia questions and stuff.”

“So someone made a game, into a game?”

Dean chuckled and looked over at the angel. “Yeah, I guess they did.”

“I wonder what else “they” have done.” Castiel said, making air quotes around the word.

“Don’t get all Big Brother on me, now, Cas.”

“Dean I am not your sibling.”

“No it’s a… nevermind.”

\---

“Sammy, we’re home!” Dean called as he descended the stairs of the bunker.

A groan of reply came from the direction of Sam’s room.

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Dean said to Cas, “Think you can make soup?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“Alright,” He said, handing the bags of groceries to the angel. “mind putting these away while you’re at it?” He took the boxes and games from the angel and set them on the table in the main entrance, grabbing the pepto from his pocket, and heading down the hall to check on his little brother.

\---

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said with a soft smile, "How you holdin' up?" the taller, albeit younger, Winchester limped from the bathroom and toward his bed. "I'm never eating Kale again." He groaned.

"Yet another reason to stay away from salads." Dean smirked. He handed Sam the pepto. "Can you do it, or do you need me to do the airplane thing?"

Sam scowled at Dean and grabbed the bottle from him, cracking off the lid and pouring himself a shot. He swigged it down and replaced the cap, setting the bottle on his nightstand.

"Cas is making you some soup." Dean ventured, not sure why Sam was giving him the cold shoulder. It wasn't his fault Sam ate that much green stuff. "Chicken noodle. your favorite."

Just then, there was came loud bang and a shriek from the kitchen. "Stay here." Dean said, grabbing his gun from his waistband and running to check it out.

\---

As he rounded the corner, he heard the familiar shink! of an angel blade being unsheathed. his pulse quickened, and he cocked his gun, ready to shoot whatever he had to.

He was not expecting, however, to be met with a soup covered kitchen, and a bewildered angel, pointing his blade at the stovetop.

Dean sighed and stowed his gun. "Damnit, Cas! what the hell?"

Castiel didn't move his eyes from the stovetop, or lower his blade. "It..." he squinted his eyes at the saucepan, "exploded at me."

Dean growled softly and moved the pot off of the burner and turned off the range. "Cas what did you do?"

"The directions said to put in a pot and heat on the stove until desired consistency." the angel defended, crossing his arms, "it did not need to explode at me."

Dean turned around and took his first real look at the angel. His entire front was covered in soup and bits of tin can. Dean sighed again, and pulled out a can opener. He grabbed a new can of soup, and opened it, showing the angel how to correctly prepare soup.

He set the soup on the stove and turned it on low, letting it simmer a bit. "C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up."

\---

One shower, a set of Dean's old pyjamas, and a bowl of soup for Sam later, found the angel squinting at a direction booklet, and frowning.

"Cas." Dean said, sitting cross-legged on the couch behind the angel.

"One moment, Dean. this says that there are cords to insert into ports in your television set, but I do not see any cords."

"Cas." Dean repeated, laughing lightly.

"There are supposed to be cor-"

"Earth to Castiel, it's Dean speaking."

Castiel turned around, and his expression softened. Dean had the console setup and powered on.

Dean threw Cas a smile and held out a controller. "I get to be player one." Dean asserted.

Castiel nodded, grabbed the controller, and sat down beside him on the couch. "Which game are we playing first?"

"Black Ops II. I thought we should start with something I can dominate you at."

The angel smiled. "I believe the correct response here is: Challenge accepted."

"Since when are you caught up on all the gamer lingo?"

Castiel's brow furrowed. "The what?"

Dean smirked as he queued up a game of zombies, always happy to know something the angel didn't."The language gamers use to talk to one another."

"Dean Winchester," the angel said just as the screen loaded up the map of Green Run farm, "prepare to get rekt."

This little outburst from the normally conservative angel gave Dean a start, and he fumbled the controls trying to catch up to Cas's player, accidentally launching a grenade at him in the process.

Castiel looked over at Dean and scowled.

"Shit. Sorry, Cas."

Dean had read the basics of this game online. He knew that their dinky handguns weren't going to cut it a few rounds in. When it came to zombie mode on the farm, unlocking the farmhouse was first priority. That meant racking up as many points as possible early on, not to mention hitting up the mystery box in the house ASAP.

He walked his character, the hazmat suit guy, over to one of the outer barriers and mashed the X button like crazy, racking up points easy.

Was it cheating using the internet to figure out the best strategy?

Meanwhile, Castiel busied himself with learning the controls. After a few wasted rounds of ammo and grenades, he figured out what each button did, and then set his character, an FBI agent, by the looks of it, over to where Dean's player was building barriers.

"Dean, are those figures in front of us good or bad?" the angel asked, pointing his handgun through the barriers Dean had reinforced.

"Their bad, Cas. They're all bad."

Castiel proceeded to cut down all five zombies with dead on headshots, getting a combo and some bonus points, setting his total well above Dean's measly barrier hack. Dean sat back, slack-jawed. 'Holy shit.' he thought, though he wouldn't give Cas the satisfaction of hearing it out loud.

"Hey, Cas, go unlock the house for me, would ya?"

"Sure, Dean." The FBI agent made his way over to the house and unlocked it. Dean followed, shoving his character past Cas's, making his way to the mystery box, and spending his points to open it.

"Come on, Sammy needs a high powered weapon." Dean muttered as the box shuffled through it's contents, finally settling on a simple M1216 shotgun. "Really?" Dean said, taking it anyways. It was better than his handgun, at least.

He walked down the stairs of the house, and saw the fridge with a bloody handprint on it. He couldn't help but smile, thinking of the identical mark he had on his arm.

"Hey, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Did you grip this fridge tight and raise it from perdition?"

It was worth the grenade hit.

\---

After a few rounds of zombies, Dean realized he might be a bit outmatched. Cas didn't miss a single shot, and he hasn't even needed reviving once.

Dean, on the other hand, may have been a near perfect shot "IRL", but he wasn't the best in game.

“Damnit, Cas! How are you so good at this?" Dean exclaimed as the angel made five more headshots, his face a mix of disbelief and frustration.

"I assume it is because of the way I can detect patterns and predict how they will change."

"So you're cheating with your angel mojo?" Dean said, holding his controller in front of Castiel's face, trying to distract him.

"The only one cheating is you, Dean." Castiel said sternly, just as the round five tally ticked on the bottom of the screen.

"I'm not cheating, I'm just... Increasing my chances of beating you."

"That's cheating, Dean."

"Shut up."

Dean rounded a corner of the house, and stood face to screen with a wolf almost as big as he was. Except this wolf looked like it had risen from the grave, and then rolled in lava.

It was a hellhound.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean froze. He couldn't think of what buttons to push, or even how to run.

The only thought on his mind was...

Hell.

The hellhound took no time in ripping apart Dean's character, making a break for Castiel's once Dean was tapped out.

Castiel killed it with two shots to the head and a knife to the throat, then made his way to revive Dean.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean said quietly, pausing the game.

"What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean didn't speak, he just looked into those ocean deep, bright blue eyes, searching for the words in his sea of emotions and pain. So much pain.

It was true, much of Hell was physical torture, but that wasn't the worst of it. Pain Dean could handle; It was the psychological trauma, the emotional torment, that was what he still had nightmares about.

But then there were those eyes. That blue, so bright it drowned out the fires of hell. It drowned out the screams of his torture victims, the pain of being alone, of being a disappointment, of... Everything.

No wonder he could never quite look away.

"Perhaps we should play another game." Castiel suggested, sensing Dean's discomfort, seeing the streak of pain in his aura a mile wide.

"What about the one with the partying rodents?"

Dean smiled softly. "Sure, Cas. Let's do that."

Dean rose from the couch, and traded the discs, taking a moment to breathe.

'You're safe. You're alive. You're home.'  He thought. It usually did the job to ground himself when he got lost in those memories.

He steeled his face, and sat back on the couch beside Cas.

Castiel put a hand over the mark on Dean's bicep, lining his hand with the print, and squeezing it softly. "I'm here, Dean. Don't forget that."

"I know, Cas."

Castiel smiled weakly, and turned his attention back to the screen.

\---

"Oh come on! That isn't fair!" Dean shouted, trying to race his warthog around the track, but Castiel had found a shortcut, and proceeded to lap Dean.

Dean tilted his controller in front of Castiel's face, trying to throw him off again. He felt something thump the back of his head, and whipped around, pausing the game mid-turn. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what, Dean?" Castiel smirked.

"Something hit the back of my head, but... You had your hands full with the controls and there's nothing else here to..." He squinted at the now chuckling angel. "Damnit, Cas. What did you do?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Will you unpause the game so I can give you the loss you deserve?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at the angel, but pressed continue anyways. He veered his hog to the right, smacking into Castiel's and sending it off into the side of the course. Castiel glared at him as he made his way back to the course slowly, all the while Dean was making up ground, using the shortcut Cas had found.

"That is not fair, Dean." Castiel scolded as Dean crossed the finish line.

"When has anything in our lives been fair?" Dean muttered, but he instantly regretted it. The look on Castiel's face made Dean's chest ache. "Cas, I'm sorry. That was insensitive."

"No, no. You're right. Our existences have been anything but fair." He put a hand over Dean's, squeezing it softly.

\---

Dean cleared his throat and smirked, "All this winning is sure making me hungry. What about you?"

"I don't need to eat. But I can make you a sandwich."

Dean couldn't help but laugh.

Castiel raised an eyebrow at the hunter. "Is there something humorous about me making you a sandwich?"

"No, Cas. It's just a stereotype that a gamer's girlfriend should make him food instead of play with him. It's one of those jokes I don't really like because they shame women, but it was just kind of funny because you said it, and we're playing video games together..." Crap. now he was rambling.

"Are you implying you like me, Dean Winchester?"

Dean blushed. Truth be told, he had put the angel in a whole different category from friends, family, and others he cared about, but... he had spent many long nights brooding on the subject, never to come to an answer.

He took the easy way out, "I'm implying you suck at videogames, but rock at making sandwiches."

Castiel smiled softly. "I seem to recall beating you severely until you started cheating."

"I don't cheat. I win."

"Well, you aren't a Lose-chester." Castiel chuckled, proud of his play on words.

Dean rolled his eyes, and stood, popping in the disc for Skyrim.

Castiel, still laughing, made his way to the kitchen. The angel grabbed the peanut butter and bread from the pantry, and the jam from the fridge.

Once he was satisfied with the sandwich's consistency, he wrapped it in a paper towel, and returned to Dean, who was creating his character. "Here you are." Castiel said, sitting down lightly next to him.

"Thanks, Cas." Dean said, otherwise completely focused on the game. He was customizing his character, choosing Nord as his race. "I don't want to over complicate it with all this magick and crap. I just want your average Joe with a sword." Dean defended, though Castiel didn't seem to judge.

"Is race somehow important in this game?" Castiel asked.

"Well, according to Charlie, different races have different abilities, and some races are treated better than others. She said the cat people, uh.., the Khajiit, are treated like crap because some of them are thieves."

"Well that seems very rude."

"That's life, Cas. You get judged by what people like you do, and no one can see past what you are. It doesn't matter what you do to try and prove yourself, you'll always be seen at face value. To some at least."

Castiel thought for a moment. It was true that many creatures were seen as bad, and only bad. He cocked his head to the side, looking at Dean's character. For a Nord, he was rather lanky, having muscles, but not much weight otherwise. He had dark, shaggy hair, blue eyes, defined cheekbones, and a little bit of beard scruff. "Is body hair a necessary feature in this game as well?"

Dean barked a laugh and smiled softly, "Every Nord has to have some kind of beard, Cas. It's unspoken Nord law."

The angel nodded. "Is it also law that they wear almost no clothes?" He pointed out, seeing as Dean's character was wearing only a ragged robe.

"No, Cas. I am being executed for crimes against the Empire," He said, typing in a name for his character quickly, "these are all I had for clothes, aparently."

"Didn't you just start the game? How are you already being executed for something?"

"Just shut up and watch the cutscene. It will make more sense, hopefully."

They both watched as Dean's character was escorted to the chopping block, and another prisoner was executed, but not before the priestess said a few words.

"'As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-' she started, but was cut off by a soldier who said, 'For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with.'"

"Are people not religious in this universe?" Castiel asked.

"That's an excellent question. I have no idea. Sounds like they are a "cut the crap" sort of people," Dean smirked, "I think we will get along just fine."

"Dean, you're about to be executed. Do you really think that you will have time to-"

"Holy crap. Is that a Dragon?" Dean said as Alduin landed atop the spire, just as Dean was about to be executed. "Yep, that's a dragon." Dean confirmed, mashing a few buttons impatiently, waiting for the cutscene to end. "come on shut up and let me run fight already."

"Dean, you have no armor, and your hands are bound. how do you suppose you are going to fight a dragon?"

"I'll figure something out." Dean said, his character following another into the keep, explaining the controls to him and cutting the binds on his hands. "See?"

"You're still almost naked, Dean."

"Shut up." Dean raided a few chests, getting a healing potion, some basic Imperial armor, and iron mace, and an iron sword. "Who's helpless now?" he asked, looking pointedly at Cas.

"That man in the cage right next to you is."

"Damnit, Cas. It was a rhetorical question. He's probably in that cage for a reason. I don't really feel like letting him out."

"That's not very nice."

"Well, in this game, nice won't get you very far." Dean said as he stabbed a Stormcloak through the gut with his sword.

"I beg to differ." Castiel defended.

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I'd even bet you on it."

"Fine." he said, pausing the game and saving it in the meantime, "I'd bet you a week's worth of kitchen duty that being nice in this game will get you nowhere, whereas being an ass will make you succeed."

"Deal." They shook on it, and Dean turned back to the game, which was done saving.

"Let me get out of this place and to safer ground, first. Then you can play."


	3. Chapter 3

\---Twelve minutes later---

"Damnit, Cas! Why aren't you attacking it?" Dean said as Castiel's character, a black Khajiit, was being mauled by a wolf.

"I just want to pet it, Dean. Why does it hate me?"

Dean sighed, trying not to laugh. "Just kill it, Cas. Before you die. Again."

"I feel like that would be unkind of me," Castiel said, running his character away from the wolf, and straight into a mudcrab, which also attacked him with its sharp chitins. "Why is this game so hostile?" Castiel said as he ran his sword through the crab, swinging around towards the wolf, which was still chasing him. He used the flame spell in his other hand to shoot at it with fire until it was within sword range, then he struck it down with one slash to the throat.

"That wasn't very kind, Cas."

"Maybe I can't be kind to the wildlife, but I can be nice to the people, at least."

Castiel walked his character into Riverwood, a small town on the way to Whiterun's keep.

"What do you want, Cat?" one guard said as Castiel walked his character by.

"Was that a racial slur?" Castiel asked, turning to the guard.

"Cas, they can't hear you talking."

"Hmph," he grunted, scowling slightly. "That's not a nice thing to say."

"It's Skyrim, Cas, everyone's a little racist and rude. Even the kids."

"The children are unkind, too? You've got to be joking." Castiel walked up to the nearest child, who said, "Boys, girls, dogs, elders - there's nobody I won't fight!"

Dean barked a laugh, "I told you."

Castiel's frown deepened, but he refused to give up. He could still be a good guy in the game. "Perhaps she is just having a bad day."

"She lives in Skyrim. Everything is trying to kill you. I'd be cranky, too."

"What do I do next?"

"You should probably talk to the smith, see if you can use his forge to make armor." Dean instructed.

Castiel walked his character over to the smith, asking to use the forge. The smith agreed, and gave Cas some supplies to work with. After Cas had tanned some leather from the wolf that attacked him, he made a leather helmet, equipping it before heading off into the wilds of Skyrim again.

"You should probably head to Whiterun. Tell the Jarl about the dragon and Helgen." Dean said, leaving to go get some snacks from the kitchen.

Castiel made his way to the hold, running into a few more wolves along the way. As much as he hated it, Dean was right. They had to die. He sighed, but put down the wolves as he went, making it to Whiterun in record time. he climbed the steps to Dragonsreach, where he started the next quest line.

Dean returned with a bowl of popcorn and red vines, raising his eyebrows at Cas. "You're in Whiterun already?" Dean couldn't lie, he was impressed.

"I may have had to kill a few wolves to get here." Castiel frowned. Dean sat down next to him, taking a handful of popcorn and stuffing his face.

"Not so easy being nice, is it?" Dean said, flicking a red vine in Castiel's face.

"Do you always have to be right?" Castiel said, biting the candy and taking it from Dean, letting it hang out of his mouth as he plotted his next move in the game.

"Abso-fucking-lutely I do."

\----

After defeating the first dragon, disappointed he couldn't befriend it, Cas passed the controller back to Dean so he could play again. The angel munched at some popcorn, there was still quite a bit left since Dean's loyalties had strayed to the red vines. Castiel watched Dean play for awhile, making note of how Dean seemed to opt for the more... barbaric missions and pathways in the game.

He was lost in thought when his phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket, reading a text from Charlie. It said something along the lines of "Suck it Bitches!" attached was a photo of her and Patrick Stewart.

Dean was too wrapped up in the game to notice Castiel's attention was on something else. That is, until a dragon picked him up in it's jaws, biting down and shaking him around vigorously before throwing his corpse to the side. Dean cursed while he waited for his character to respawn. He turned to look at Cas who was texting. "Cas, that better not be Heaven stuff-" he said with a sigh. There was never enough time to just be. To do normal human things and not have to save the world twelve ways to Sunday.

"It is not "Heaven stuff"," the angel said, showing him the picture from Charlie. "puqloD Ha'DlbaH," Dean whispered in Klingon, then he proceeded to hide his burning cheeks, not willing to admit he was a closet Trekkie.

Castiel smiled and responded to Charlie, "I do not know who that man is, but Dean seems to recognize his importance." A conversation struck up between them, Charlie asked why he was still at the Bunker.

Castiel explained that Dean told him that he had to take a "Vacay". He also told her they'd purchased a gaming console and they were playing Skyrim. Charlie was impressed that Dean had actually done it; bought a game system. "I bet his character is a big beefy nord with arms as big as his head." she replied, chuckling at the thought.

Castiel replied that he had chosen nord, but that he wasn't at all as built as she'd expect. Charlie told Cas he needed to take a picture and send it to her, and he tried a few times, but it was almost impossible when Dean's character was only visible when he died.

So, when Dean paused to go to the bathroom, Castiel unpaused the screen, took it out of first person and turned the camera, taking a picture of the lanky, shaggy haired, blue eyed nord. He recognized the similarities, and was keenly aware of it's appearance. He sent the picture to Charlie who was so pleased with it, and so busy trying not to scream with delight because secretly, Dean and Cas were her OTP, that she never responded.

Dean returned, the screen was still paused and Castiel was reclined on the couch as though nothing had transpired. He had his hands folded in his lap, waiting patiently, and he was completely still. Dean regarded him for a long moment; he was so still it was like he'd turn to stone if he didn't move. "Hey. Getting kind of late, maybe we outta call it a night." Dean suggested.

Castiel recognized Dean was tired and he nodded in agreement. "Of course Dean." they could always pick up tomorrow.

So, they went to bed.

\-----

Well, Dean went to bed. Castiel wandered into the library and stretched his wings out a bit, the high ceilings giving him the room to spread out his eight foot wing span. They popped and shuddered, glad to be free of their usual confines behind Castiel's back.

Castiel gave them a testing flap, whooshing papers all around the library. He sighed, folding his wings back up and cleaning up his mess, then picking up a book about transexualism in werewolves and curling up in one of the over-stuffed leather chairs for the night.

\-----

The next morning, Sam was the first to wake, feeling much better after his battle with the Kale monster in his gut. He decided he'd play a game while he ate breakfast and ran a search on his computer for anything weird to chase.

He turned on the Xbox and saw Skyrim was queued and thought eh, why not. He looked on the save file and snorted when he saw the names, Castiel, a nord, and Kaslane, a Khajiit. Sam smirked, thinking of Castiel playing Skyrim as a nord.

Cas finished the six part series on transgenderism among werewolves in under three hours, afterwards venturing into the commons. He was surprised to find Sam awake, and gaming. "Goodmorning, Sam."

"Hey, Cas." Sam smiled softly, "Or should I say it with a more, rugged accent?"

Castiel squinted at the taller Winchester, not following.

"You know," Sam continued, gesturing to the game, "since you're a nord and all."

"Oh, I'm not a nord. Dean is. My character's name is Kaslane, or 'feline' in Estonian." Castiel smirked at his cleverness with the name.

"Wait, so Dean named his character after you?"

Castiel shrugged and then smirked as Sam's character got launched airborne by a giant's club.

\-----

A couple hours later, Dean woke up, stretching his arms and twisting the kinks out of his back. He lumbered sleepily to the lavish bathroom down the hall, clean towel in hand. He let the water heat up as he turned on some music, Hot Blooded by Foreigner coming on straight away. He smiled and sang along, dropping his clothes in the hamper and setting his towel on the sink.

'You don't have to read my mind, to know what I have in mind! honey, you outta know. I wanna know, what you're doin' after the show.' Dean sang, using the shampoo bottle as a stand in mic. His thoughts drifted to last night, and although there were some bad moments, overall, it ranked pretty high on his "Best Nights of Existence" list. Come to think of it, a lot of those nights were with Cas. He thought of that 'just been fucked' hair, those celestial blue eyes, and overall being that was Cas, and then realized this shower might take longer than expected.

\-----

Sometime later, Dean wandered out into the commons, a towel around his waist.Castiel sat on the couch, watching Sam destroy everything in his path with a mixture of magic and sheer brutality. Sam had worked on leveling himself up before starting the story line and now he was now taking on giants, bears and trolls with just his bare hands and magic. Dean watched and whistled low. Sammy had moves.

"And I thought I was a brute." Dean said, heading towards his room to put on some fresh clothes.

"No, you're just Castiel." Sam muttered, grinning.

"I HEARD THAT." Dean shouted from his room.

Sam barked a laugh so loud Castiel jumped, his wings reflexively opening, knocking over a nearby lamp. "I'm sorry." He blushed, cleaning it up.

Sam couldn't breathe he was laughing so hard.

Charlie had sent Castiel a text, as he threw away the broken lamp bits, he read it, "One Word. Larping."

"That was three words. One of which I don't understand." He responded.

"Live Action Roleplaying. You need to Dress up as Dean's Skyrim Character." she explained.

Cas was intrigued by the idea, and thought of a little extra something, "Perhaps I should make him another sandwich and bring it to him as such."

Charlie replied through her cackling, "We'll need an amulet of Mara. I think I can find one around here somewhere. Someone is bound to be making and selling them.Oh, it's so on."

\----

 

"Dammit, Sammy you can't throw grenades like that!" Castiel heard from the kitchen as the spread mayo and mustard on rye bread, loading it with honey smoked turkey,swiss cheese, and lettuce.

"You're just mad because I'm beating you."

"Okay you're gonna do that thing where you shut the hell up. Forever."

Castiel smirked and plated the sandwich, putting on a handful of potato chips and snatching a beer from the fridge. He adjusted his scabbard, grabbing the plate and taking a quick photo of himself for Charlie.

 

He had flown to her motel room late last night to retrieve the amulet, and drop off some gummi worms.

"DUDE OTP OTP OTP" Charlie replied, along with at least thirty heart emojis.

Castiel had no idea what she meant, but with that many hearts, it must be a good thing.

"Let me know how it goes~" She said.

"I will."

Castiel took a deep breath and made his way to the commons, where Dean and Sam had their backs to the leather clad angel. they were playing multiplayer Black Ops, Dean sticking his elbows out into Sam's face to try and throw him off guard, and Sam still beating Dean single handedly. literally.  As he was beating Dean with his other hand.

Castiel laughed as the round ended, Sam obliterating Dean's score and shot count. "DAMMIT." Dean roared, "Can something go my way today?"

Sam himself had turned around and seen the bare chested Castiel, wearing only leather bottom armor and a scabbard, and the taller Winchester was rendered speechless.

Dean turned to see what he was gawking at, and his eyes lit up with desire. He stifled a groan and turned it into an awkward cough.

"Whatcha wearing, Cas?"

"Charlie informed me that you might find this attire aesthetically pleasing, and that it would make you very happy."

Sam burst out laughing, standing to make himself scarce. He too knew there was something going on between those two, and he sure as Hell didn't want to be within earshot when that bomb went off. "I'm just gonna go... do a thing." he said, grabbing his jacket and keys, "Don't break anything."

Dean was speechless. His angel- woah where did that come from?- was standing before him, one of his no doubt perfect sandwiches in hand, dressed like he walked straight out of Riften, sword and all.

Speaking of Riften, was that an amulet of Mara? Fuck, it was. "C-Cas? What are y-"  
"Don't ask stupid questions, Dean." There was a long pause as the Nord Warrior set the sandwich down on the coffee table, "I would take an arrow to the knee for you, Dean Winchester."

"Cas, I don't think that means what you think it means."

"Oh, yes. It does," Castiel said, striding closer to the befuddled hunter, "I googled it."

Dean swallowed again. He could smell the scent he always associated with Cas, sweetness and ozone, like stepping off the electric bumper cars and over to a food stand. Only this time, it was dirtier, manlier. Dean folded his hands in his lap, trying to hide his already obvious approval of Castiel's new look.

"I'd bet all the gold in Solitude that that isn't a battle axe in your pocket." Castiel purred, face inches from Dean's.

"Shut up, it's a greatsword." Dean smirked, biting his lip.

Castiel smiled and sat on the coffee table, holding the sandwich out to Dean.

"Put the sandwich down, and kiss me, damnit." Dean almost growled, dragging the celestial nord into his lap.

"Is that an order, my liege?" Castiel purred, his mouth millimeters from dean's own. He waved his hand and the crown he had set aside flew into it. He placed it on Dean's head lopsidedly and grinned.

"Hell yes, I'm the king. Now how about giving me some praise?"


End file.
